Freaks! Sorry I’ve been MIA, but my freelance writing biz have taken on behemothic proportions (hey, I ain’t complaining — more Choo money for me!). Anyhoo, said onslaught of assignments hasn’t left me much time to blog because between sweating over a hot keyboard, well, I have these two other things in my life called CHILDREN and they’re both rather time consuming
and pains in the ass at times TO SAY THE LEAST. But they’re pretty awesome sauce, so we’ll keep them. Besides, there both over the age of 6 which basically renders them un-adoptable, right? Totally spot on, naturally. (INSERT WINK OF SARCASM HERE)
Which leads me to my next point: Lately, I’ve been having a really hard time with this whole life-work balance thing. In fact, I’m in desperate need of life-work balance bootcamp, to be frank.
You see, my “real” job as a journalist requires zipping around town to write about Miami’s newest spas, fashion happenings and hotspots (I know, tough gig, but it still requires time and the usage of braincells to pen both a cohesive and insightful story for press time).
Next, I need to slip in a workout at some point because if not, my ass will turn as gelatinous as Jell-o and that’s not a good lewk. Besides, breaking a sweat wards off my anxiety and weird thoughts (damn that itty-bitty shitty committee in my head!) — and other super important crap like cellulite.
When the clock strikes 3, well, I’m a bus driver. It’s this really glamorous job where I cart the kids off to swimming and soccer and tutoring and LORD KNOWS WHAT ELSE. Afterwards, I cook (which I LOVE because it makes me all present and shit and AGAIN, it quiets my mind) and then there’s homework (Ew. I forgot how to divide and multiply which invariably makes me feel stoop-id).
Again, I’m not whining (I’m SO #blessed) — this is more of a stream of consciousness kind of post where I’m just talking out loud. But I feel like the emails never stop coming. The texts keep pinging. The assignments keep rolling in. The kids have to be bathed (because SUPERLICE, yes, superlice are now a thing). And my husband craves kisses, foot rubs and other X-rated stuff.
So, yeah, sometimes, I feel overwhelmed. And while my life is nowhere as cataclysmic as I’m making it out to be here — I do feel pervasive anxiety at times.
Any tips on balancing it all? Or is it just a pipe dream?